Cornflower Blue
by xMuffinCrumbsx
Summary: It's been a year since Wally's death; and Barry still hasn't properly grieved the loss of a boy that was his son in all but blood. Now he is forced to- when confronted with an alternate dimensional traveler who wears a younger version of his dead son's face. There is just one major difference... POST!YJ SEASON 2.
1. Chapter 1

Today was the day.

The anniversary of the moment that he lost his first son.

Because while he may not have had total claim over the boy that wasn't his blood; they shared something that no one else in the world could possibly emulate.

They had run beside each other, protected each other, cried together, and then Barry watched him **die**.

He loved him as much as he loves his cooing infants, he loved him as much as he loves his grandson from the future that pulled on the yellow cowl in his son's absence.

No, he didn't. That's a lie.

He _loves_ him still, and that's why it hurts so much. Even a year after the fact.

When Rudy had been to the funeral, and they buried the empty casket- Rudy had told him 'I hope you never have to go through the pain of losing a child.' Barry had struggled not to snipe back in reply that he already _had_ lost a child. However, he knows Wally wouldn't want them to fight.

So, he bit his tongue and pretended like he wasn't breaking inside.

He held it together for so long. He comforted his wife when she cried in the late nights, he brought his grandson close and didn't acknowledge the sniffles that the boy with too dark of hair and too brown of eyes hid in his shirt. He had been the rock that everyone had depended on.

He never broke.

He never cried.

Maybe it just didn't hit him yet, the fact that he was really gone. Perhaps he still pretended to himself that the yellow streak beside him was still his redheaded nephew. Maybe he pretended that Wally was happy with Artemis in their apartment and that he just forgot to call and visit.

Yet then he sees something that jostles his entire perception. He focuses on the blur beside him, realizing that the grinning face _isn't_ Wally. Or when Artemis comes up to their doorstep and gets ushered inside like a lost lamb by his wife Iris.

There is a lump in his throat.

But his eyes remain painfully dry.

It's been a year when he finally gets the call.

It's the day.

"Flash." Batman's usually terse voice is somehow dampened, perhaps it is guilt lacing his voice- for having to pull Barry into work on such a painful day. Or maybe Barry is just overthinking. "You need to get to the watchtower. Now."

Then that's the end of transmission. No explanation. Just the distant disconnect of the line. So, he kisses his wife, and ruffles the hair of all three of his children (ignoring the fact that he used to have four) when he changes into his suit and runs to the nearest zeta.

When he appears in the Watchtower and the vibrant white blue beam of the zeta energy dissipates- he puts on a grin that feels hollow. "What sort of doom and gloom is it this time?" He asks the shadow by the wall. It suddenly shifts until it takes form and he is speaking to Batman.

"Follow me."

And like this day is always- the world seems to drag on. Wanting to prolong the worst day of his life for centuries. Each foot fall is like a hundred years, and each blink is like the changing of the seasons. His thoughts circulate around his _son_\- his _Kid Flash_. He knows it will get better with time; he's been through it with his mother- yet this is a pain he doesn't know he can endure.

He knows he must.

They go to the interrogation cells, most of them empty and unused. Except one at the end that is meant to hold high level metas. The energy field is charged up, and Flash can feel the hum of it in the air. He pauses, when Batman holds up his hand. The white lenses narrowing at him as they hold his gaze. "Steel yourself." Is all he says, before he turns on his heel with a swish of his cape. Finally, leading Barry to stand in front of the cell.

He doesn't make a visible reaction. Seeing the ripped and battered Kid Flash costume. He doesn't react to seeing the inhibitor color blinking to show that it is online. He doesn't react to the familiar fire red hair that is mottled with hues of brown and red steaks from crusted and damp blood in his scalp.

He only finally makes a reaction when the boy looks up. His face the exact same he remembered it being when Wally had been fourteen or fifteen. All except for one major change.

His eyes were cornflower blue.

He turned away, hiding the tremble of his shoulders and the wet tears leaking from behind the cowl. Batman, with all the patience in the world- just puts a hand on his shoulder. "We can do this later." It's less Batman and more Bruce Wayne. The man that also lost a son.

For the first time in a year, Barry cries.

* * *

**A/N: Just a little one shot to do while I'm resting from writing my other DC/YJ fic. This one came from the idea I had of Wally meeting another multi-verse version of himself. Then I decided to turn it into angst, and set it after Wally died in YJ season 2- and have Barry meet the alternate Wally instead. **

**The alternate Wally West I am using is Kid Flash from the Teen Titans. He doesn't do much here though, and originally I debated about making it longer to add a conversation with he and Barry- but I ultimately decided not to. If anyone wants, feel free to take this idea and run with it! I'd love to see where it would go.**

**Give a little love if you enjoyed it! I've been into a flashfamily kick recently and am debating about making a one-shot collection for them (mostly Wally and Barry). Given my current long running project of Rising Magic, I'm probably not going to attempt a full fledged out story with the flashfam until I finish the other- but one shots aren't too bad. So if you want to see more of this content, show your support!**


	2. Chapter 2

Kid Flash…

-No-

_Wally West_.

Wally West had always been running, even before he got his powers.

He had always been running from something.

When he had started, he had been running away from the angry shouts that rattled the windows of his home in Blue Valley. He had run from them, but he had never cried. Even when their words hurt infinitely more than any physical blows they managed.

He had been taken in by his Aunt and Uncle. For a while, he thought he didn't have to run from anything anymore.

Then he had found out the truth, and he ran away from the confines of his normal life. In turn, he ran towards the gravity well of his uncle- his hero- the Flash- Barry Allen. It would be the first and last time that he ever ran towards something…

No, that's a lie.

He did it once more, but each time he learned his lesson. Like a child being burned by touching a stove. The pain teaches you not to do it again. Only he was dumb enough to do it twice.

The first time he ran towards something, it was to run to his Uncle. To run with him. His Uncle was the closest thing to a father he was going to get. His biological father's harsh words couldn't compare to Barry Allen's soft smiles.

It was easy to gravitate towards Barry Allen. He was like the sun itself. A well of warmth, a cradle of safety.

So yes, if anyone could have been his dad- he would have liked it to be him.

Yet, that was when he first got burned.

The Flash was pronounced deceased when he was thirteen. All the world mourned for their beloved hero. Kid Flash pulled on the red cowl in his mentor's honor. It was immediately noticed.

Fraud, imposter, a fake. They saw a kid playing dress up. Wally thought they were wrong.

Maybe he didn't try hard enough, maybe he was never good enough.

The woman he had considered his mother-Iris- died too.

It was all his fault.

If only he had been faster, if only he had been faster, if only he had been **_faster_**.

He couldn't handle it, and so when the Justice League intervened- when they stationed a hero other than a speedster in Central City- he knew he failed. The thoughts changed to-

If only I **_was_** faster.

He couldn't handle the pressure. He was still too young, and people said that was okay- but it wasn't. He lost the two most important people in his life; he was careening out of control and he couldn't stop himself. His life was a wreck, burning and smoldering until he was nothing but ashes.

He was just a kid playing dress up.

So, he took back his rightful yellow cowl, and he ran away from the imposing shadow that hung over Central.

The shadow of death, the shadow of his failures, the shadow of a role that was impossible to fill.

For a while, not being tied down to anything- it _worked. _He learned to control his powers better, he gained more speed- he was taking down the baddies left and right.

Then he met her.

The first thing he noticed when he saw her face, wasn't her pink spiked hair, or her purple and black clothing, or her ashen grey complexion. The thing he noticed was the hardness in her eyes. The practiced sharp edge that someone honed from being hurt too many times. It was the same look he'd see back in the mirror, when he thought of the ruins of his life he left behind. He concealed it with his wit and charm, but it was always underneath the surface.

He reached out and poured everything he had into converting her to his side.

It was the second time he'd ever run towards something. Her pull was undeniable, and he found himself getting lost in her gravity well.

She was the second time he got burned.

'All I bring is bad luck.' She had insisted. He had never paid attention to it, because he didn't believe in luck. He believed in what was here and now.

Maybe he should have believed her.

He remembers cradling her broken body, trembling in the rubble of a life he had tried to build with her. She had saved him, and if only he was faster- maybe he could have saved her in return.

Madam Rouge looked at his misery like he was a curious specimen. When she lifted the Brain's strange energy gun and pressed the cool metal to his temple- he had stared defiantly at her.

No more running.

He was expecting it to kill him, but fate was never so kind.

In all the years he's been running- he's still never cried.

Now he's running, and he can feel terror in his bones. Because heroes he'd once known treated him like an unknown factor or a ghost. He doesn't know which is worse, but he keeps on running. One foot in front of the other, it's what he's always done.

This wasn't his world, it's like he's walked into a manipulated mirror. Warped by some exterior forces. He wants to scream and cry, but he keeps running. His mind barely comprehends everything that has happened in such a short amount of time- but being a speedster, he can think fast. He will adapt. He must adapt.

He's low on food and burning through calories. He has the advantage of speed, but they have the advantage of sheer numbers, patience, and orchestrated planning. He's just a kid that got caught up in the wrong place and the wrong time.

He doesn't remember how he was taken down exactly. All he knew is that he went down hard, and everything hurt.

When he woke up, it was in an energy containment field with a strange collar around his neck. He panicked when he could feel his speed but couldn't reach out to it. Running was the only thing he was good at, running was the only way he didn't get hurt.

_Please, please, please, please, please, please._ He had begged to the shadow that lingered outside his cell. He was never scared, but now he was. All because Kid Flash couldn't run.

He slipped in and out of consciousness to pass the time. He cracked jokes to the empty cell. Time felt like it dragged on forever when it couldn't have been more than a day.

He had heard the footsteps and didn't look up. His head feeling heavy and his limbs hurting. Yet when there was a long pause, he finally dragged his eyes upwards.

The red cowl covered his features, but he had grown up seeing that face. Even years after his death, he would never forget how his uncle looked like in the mask. He could feel himself shaking, his mouth dropping open into a look of terror. His gut churned with emotion and he felt panic welling up inside him.

The shock caused him to still.

Wally never stayed still for anything.

When the man turned away, and he saw his shoulders trembling- Wally West, not Kid Flash- curled up in the tightest niche of the cell in the darkest corner. He made himself as small as possible, just like it had been when he was trying to avoid his parents' drunken rages.

Ducking his head between his knees, he tried to catch his breath. How long had it been? Now the only thing he wants to do is to reach out and have his dad tell him that everything will be okay. Yet his dad was dead, and this version of him wasn't the version he knew.

How many times he begged for just one more minute of time with his Uncle Barry. How many times he begged for his dad to save him, even after he knew he was dead and gone. This wasn't his dad, but it looked like him- sounded like him-

He felt wetness on his cheeks.

Wally West, for all his running- had never cried.

Now the tears were silently falling for the first time in years, and he couldn't get them to stop.

* * *

_**A/N: So, um. I know I said this was going to be a one shot, and that anyone else can pick the idea up because I was done with it- but uh- stuff happened. There might be another chapter of them actually confronting each other, instead of just backstory, inner monologue and angst- but- honestly I don't know what's up with this story. **_

_**Also- this is NOT canon compliant at all- Wally hasn't been abused in any continuity. I just couldn't resist jumping on the Wally!Whump train. To be clear, only Teen Titan's version of Wally was abused in this (or came from a broken home rather), not Wally YJ. I tried to keep details vague, to avoid triggers and a higher rating. **_

_**This was fun to write, but I did it while dead tired. So I doubt I'm going to like it tomorrow. I'm just going to post this before I change my mind. I think I might make this a collection of one-shots based on this scenario in particular, maybe have them in loosely interconnected sort of way. Anyways, leave a review if you enjoyed! Leave one if you didn't. Constructive criticism is welcome!**_


End file.
